They Chase My Demons Away
by vez
Summary: Why do you think Snape bothers to continue teaching at Hogwarts?


  
  
They Chase My Demons Away  
  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of other characters belongs to J.K Rowling. The poem is mine though :)  
  
A/N: One very important thing to note. I got inspiration for this fic from reading "Where Do All the Children Play" by Cairnsy. Please R/R!!:)  
  
  
  
  
  
"Where do all the children play  
In the fields where all the bodies lay?  
Voldermort may be held at bay  
But he is growing stronger day by day  
Let's face it: You-Know-Who is here to stay  
  
The dark times are behind us  
Death eaters are in hiding --   
As they must  
For now the children's laughter can be heard  
There are no more bodies being burnt  
The fear of old times are slowly ebbing away  
But the boundaries of the past can never be blurred  
  
Let Avada Kevadra be a sacred word  
Let this curse be rarely heard  
  
Pureblood versus Mudblood  
Slytherin against Gryffindor  
This rivalry and prejudice we must mend  
Or the children can never play again."  
  
-- Anon  
  
Severus Snape held the piece of paper which contained the poem like it was the most precious thing on earth. In truth, it was, to him anyway. He had no idea who wrote this poem but he clung on to the words like a lifeline.   
  
The poem had been sitting on his desk one fine morning. At that time he had been teaching at Hogwarts for only a few years. The war was finally over and some semblance of peace was returning to the wizarding community. However, the aftermath of war has its horrible consequences. After Voldermort had mysteriously dissappeared (or died as others might argue) the Ministry of Magic began to round up the Death eaters. The persecution began. Those who were guilty were sent to Azbakan and no mercy was spared.   
  
Severus could be counted as one of the lucky ones. He was safe from being sent to Azkaban. Dumbledore was gracious enough to offer him a place in Hogwarts as a Potions Professor. He may have had the trust of the Headmaster but many were still suspicious of Severus Snape. After all, they believed, once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. It was extremely difficult of Severus. Not only did he have to deal with the poeple's prejudice of him, he had to confront his own guilt.   
  
He was a Death Eater; that was a fact in itself. He had to do horrendous things. After all those years, he could still remember every face, every scream. All the ones he had killed seemed determined to haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. There was not escape.   
  
The war may be over but for him, it will never end. Many a times he would find himself contemplating his existance. Severus was miserable, no doubt. He could not find any spark of happiness in his life. There was no point in living... that was until he read the poem.   
  
The poem gave him a warmth that butterbeer can never hope to match. He gave the children a place to play. He played an intregal part in bringing down Voldermort. He gave vital information to Dumbledore and the Ministry concerning the Death Eater movements and who they were planning to attack next.   
  
Perhaps that was why he continued to teach at Hogwarts. To ensure that the children could laugh and play again. To see for himself that he had made a difference. He, Severus Snape, had helped make the world a better place.   
  
It was gratifying to see children behaving like children, as they should. Severus had seen too many chilldren being affected by the war. They were forced to grow up too quickly, shouldering too many responsibilities. There were those that had lost parents and family. They had an aura of sadness that was unbearable. He could name a long list of children whose childhood was taken away viciously -- Percy Weasley, Oliver Wood, Neville Longbottom. Percy and Oliver were so driven, so serious. He had hardly seen them have fun. Percy had to be perfect all the time and Oliver Wood constantly pushed himself and his team to work harder to Win the Quidditch match.   
  
But the new generation of children are different. They were lucky enough to have avoided horror of the war. They were either too young to understand what was going on, or they were not born yet. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, were so different from their elder brother. They were constantly creating trouble and playing tricks where ver thay go. Their neverending laughter could be heard throughout the entire school.   
  
Yes, that was how children should be -- happy and carefree. In retrospect, it was worth it all. It was worth the sleepless nights, the guilt gnawing at his soul. It was worth turning against Voldermort, becoming a double agent. For the children's laughter chased his demons away. They alone were tangible evidence that he did make a difference and perhaps he could convince himself that he wasn't a monster.  
  
Maybe, with enough time, he could learn to forgive himself. But there was one thing he knew for sure: should Voldermort rise again, Severus Snape would be the first one to fight against the wave of terror. He would risk his soul and sanity all over again -- just to make sure the childern could laugh and play again. 


End file.
